From MiddleEarth to the Realm of King Arthur
by Wild Shadows
Summary: Sauron effects everything his eye lands upon. Looking West he has effected Middle-Earth in many ways, but now he turns his eye away from the sun's resting place at night and toward where it rises, in the East, to the lands beyond Mordor, of King Arthur...
1. Chapter 1

Since so many people loved my other x-over here is another one. I put it in King Arthur because even though it starts in the LOTR realm it winds up in the King Arthur Realm, so yeah.

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Summary: _The Eye of Sauron sees farther then anyone could have imagined, the Shadow of the Dark Lord streaching farther then anyone could have ever known. The Fellowship is about to find out how far the reach of Sauron really is. Gandalf only saw the effects the Dark Lord Sauron was having on Middle-Earth, but what about the lands that lay beyond Mordor? What if there was a vast body of water just beyond the edges of the map and over that vast body of water layed a land called Britian? And in Britian, a man called Arthur was leading his knights in the service of the Roman Empire._

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Faramir sits in his little corner in Henneth Annun, thinking out the Hobbits just a few rooms away, and of what they carry with them. He sighs as he stands up and walks to an opening in the wall. Walking through the opening, he steps out onto a small ledge. Faramir scans the land and sky before him. Stars twinkling brightly, beautifully, coldly. The land dark as the moon with the fires of Mt. Doom glowing just beyond the horizion, lighting up the mountain range in front of it. Taking a breath of air, he turns and walks back into the cavern. He stands there, softly silloutted by the starlight and the dim glow of Mt. Doom beyond the horizion. Seconds pass before he turns left and walks down the hallway. Turning right, soon he comes upon to other Rangers. They salute him as he walks past them and into the room where Frodo and Sam lay resting.

Frodo stirs once, before he opens his eyes and sits up. He looks at Faramir and states, "I don't really sleep these days."

Faramir nods and says, "Walk with me, Frodo."

It was Frodo's turn to nod. He carefully moves so Sam does not wake. Standing up, Frodo follows Faramir out of the room and down the hallway. Turning and twisting, Frodo pays no attention to where they are going, he doesn't care. He knows that if Faramir wanted the Ring, he could have taken it awhile ago. He believed what Faramir said about not wanting to use the Ring for anything, even if it was just last night that he said it. They come to a room with a wooden table, two wooden chairs and a candle burning bright. On the table there was a bowl with some fruit in it, there was also a pitcher of water and two cups. Faramir sits down in a chair and motions for Frodo to take the other. He does. Faramir clasps his hands together and puts his chin on them.

"I wanted to talk to you alone, Frodo." Faramir says, "It concerns the fate of Middle-Earth."

"And what concerns are those?" Frodo asks.

Faramir sighs gently and give Frodo a stern look.

"I fear that something is going to happen to you and the Ring if you were to enter Mordor alone."

Upon hearing the word 'Ring', one of Frodo's hands fly to his chest and his fingers wrap around the Ring through his shirt.

"And what do you plan on doing about it?" Frodo asks cautiously, eyeing Faramir warily.

Faramir laughs quietly, as if reading his mind.

"Do not worry, little Hobbit, I have no intentions of taking the Ring from you."

"Then what are your intentions?"

"My intentions are to go against my father, the Steward of Gondor, and come with you."

Frodo's eyes widen at Faramir's declaration.

"You would forfeit your life to come with Sam and I to Mordor?"

"My life was forfeited to moment I said you could leave."

Frodo opens his mouth to say something but is cut off as Faramir stands up and says, "We should get you back before Sam wakes up and thinks I have done something foul to you."

"That sounds like something Sam would think." Frodo agrees as he too stands up, "I'll think about what you said, about you coming with us."

As they walk back to the room, Faramir walks slightly behind Frodo with a small smirk on his face.

They reach the room and once again the guards salute, as Faramir enters with Frodo. Faramir makes sure Frodo lies down before saying,

"There is nothing to think about. I'm coming with whether you like it or not."

Frodo sits back up as Faramir's words reach his ears. He watches as Faramir turns and walks out of the room. Frodo blinks and lays down, hoping that Faramir doesn't turn out like Boromir in the end. Closing his eyes, he can only wait for morning to come.

Sam lays perfectly still listening to the words that Faramir has spoken. He stares at the wall ahead of him as the light of the lantern of the guards in the hallway flickers and dances with the shadows on the wall.

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A battle is waging. A group of men dressed in armor fight furiously against a group of men that are painted blue and dressed in very little clothing. The blue-painted men are fairing poorly against the armored men. The last blue-painted man falls as the men in armor relax and regroup. One man, dress slightly finer then the rest, gathers his men around him and says,

"My knights, once again you have fought well for Rome. Once again you live one day closer to gaining your freedom. Come let us return to the Wall for a well earned rest."

The knights nod at this as a smile graces the lips of some. They go to where their horses wait and get on them. They ride north towards the Wall, finished with the rebels that have ventured so far south. As the Wall is seen just a head of the knights, one of them, a wild looking man, lets out a sharp whistle and in response to it, a hawk lets out a screech as it makes a slow descent to the wild looking man who has called it. It lands gently upon his raised arm.

"And where have you been?" he asks the hawk.

A bald, short man looks at him and says, "Tristan, you need a woman so you won't talk to the bird."

Tristan casts a glance at him before turning back to the hawk and whispers, "Don't listen to him. Bor is just jealous."

Tristan then gently scratches the hawks beak. Everyone just shakes their head at him. But not one of them notices an old man just inside a small grove of trees nestled on a hill top. The old man, painted blue, stands there as the trees seem to take on a life of their own as the leaves and branches move to a non-existent wind. The painted old man lays a hand softly upon the trunk of the tree closes to him, as if to soothe it.

"Soon, my friend. Soon all will come full circle." He whispers in a foreign tongue.

And at once, the trees, as if understanding, calms and they stop shaking their branches and rustling their leaves. He lets out a sigh as a mist creeps its way between the trees and around the man's feet. The mist, seemingly of its own will, begins to crawl up him until finally it compeletly engulfs him. Then the mist falls away leaving nothing where the man once stood. Just as the mist creeps back in between the trees, Tristan turns and looks towards the small grove. He sees nothing but trees. He shrugs and returns his focus to his bird.

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Gandolf emerges from the mines of Moria no longer Gandolf the Grey, but now Gandolf the White, robes shining brightly in the light. He begins makes his way to the Hall of Lord Theoden, king of Rohan.

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Daylight breaks in the East, but no one notices as the sun tries to break through the dark clouds that have stretch their way over the land. Three figures, a Dwarf, a Elf and a Man, can be seen making their way across the land, cloaks flying behind them as they run over the hills and plains of Rohan. Hardly stopping, they travel in search for their lost compainions, while on their way to the Hall of Lord Theoden, hoping against hope that their compainions have winded up there.

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So what do you think?? Keep going or trash it? Your choice, choose wisely.


	2. Chapter 2

Well since three people reviewed saying for me to continue, and three people put it on alert, I guess I will. Anyways on to the story, yeah?

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As the sun tries to pierce the dark clouds above Middle-Earth, Frodo, Sam and Faramir emerge from Henneth Annun and begin to make their way across the plains of Ithilien and towards the mountains that surround Mordor. Uneventiful travel for most of the journey, they run across Gollum, a sad a pitiful creature that has been twisted by the powers of the Ring. Gollum promises to lead them through Mordor to Mt. Doom. At the promise, Faramir snorts and Frodo casts him a look that says not to do anything rash.

"I do not trust this creature." Sam whispers, just loud enough for only Faramir to hear.

"Neither do I, Samwise." Faramir responds, "But Frodo seems to think this Gollum is trustworthy."

A silence falls between the Human and the Hobbit, as they both watch Gollum out of the corner of their eyes. Neither wanting to leave Frodo alone with him. Not one of this group is aware of the eyes that watch them from the sky, circling above high them.

They reach the base of moutains as the sun dies in the West, making an appearance for the first and last time of the day. The decide to stop for the night. As Sam sets up a small camp, Faramir sets out to scout the area, and Frodo sits back, tired, weary, and worn. He closes his eyes and lets his head lull to the side. Gollum seeing this, moves close very slowly. Gollum looks over his shoulder as his hand reaches for Frodo's shirt. He's so focused on watching out for Sam that he doesn't realize that Faramir is now standing behind Frodo, having returned after finding nothing in the surround area that would pose a threat. Just as Gollums hand is about to touch Frodo's shirt, Faramir reaches out and grabs Gollum's arm. Gollum turns his head around and stares at Faramir with wide eyes, his mouth open to scream. The scream died in his throat as Faramir pulls out a blade and moves it so it gleams dangerously in the last rays of the dying sun. Gollum closes his mouth and gulps. Faramir lets go of him and he scrambles away from the pair. Frodo shivers unconsciously, whether do to the cold or the weight of the Ring showing once more the power it had as it tries to weaken Frodo's will, Faramir does not know. He takes off his cloak and lays it upon Frodo's body, allowing the Hobbit some warmth and the little bit of sleep Frodo can get.

Sam notices this and smile softly at Frodo. He walks up to Faramir and hands him a piece of Elf Bread. Faramir nods in thanks. They eat in silence as Gollum wanders of to try and find some fish for him to eat, and Frodo groans softly in his uneasy sleep.

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Gandalf reaches the lowlands at the base of the mountian, and just as he begins his track across the land, a mist begins to form at his feet, slowly rising up, trying to engulf him. Gandalf looks down at it and waves his staff, sending the mist scattering away from him. The mist regroups a few feet away from him and tries once more to engulf the him. Once again, he waves his staff, and once again the mist scatters and reforms a few feet away from him. The mist seems to stop trying to get him. Gandalf, holds his staff out infront of him as he faces the mist. The mist grows thick and heavy as it beings to expand at an alarming rate. Within seconds Gandolf is swallowed by the mist, dispite his attemps to scatter it once more. The mist disapates, leaving nothing but the lowlands where Gandalf once stood.

Gandolf lowers his staff and walks through the mist. It starts to break apart, and reveals a shore line with a small boat bobing gently against a dock. Gandolf walks on the dock, to the boat and gets in. As soon as he is safely within the boat, it pushes itself away from the dock and begins to glide smoothly over the water, deeper into the mist. After what seemed like ages, another boat with a person standing inside can be seen silhouetted within the mist. Small waves softly knock upon the side of the boat as the mist parts to reveal the blue-painted man. Their boats gently brush up against each other before coming to a stop next to each other.

"Merlin, my friend." Gandolf greets, opening his arms, "How have you been?"

"Gandolf," Merlin greets in return, "I have been fine. And you, my old friend?"

"Wonderful, as you can see." Gandolf answers, "But enough of these pleasurities. What have you brought me here for?"

"You are right." Merlin says, getting a serious look on his face, "Things are grave here, I must ask for your help."

Gandolf looks at Merlin, then says, "My friend, you know I can not. We face a terrible threat in Middle-Earth. I cannot spare anyone. You know this."

"Yes, Gandolf, I know, but your enemy effects more than you now," Merlin says, "And I cannot believe that you would think that I would ask you of this without offering something in return."

Galdolf turns his head and looks out into the mist, as if hoping to find the answers to the questions he has yet to ask, just beyond the edges. He turns his head back to Merlin, scratching his beard.

"Tell me what you have to offer, and I will decide if it is worth the risk."

Merlin allows a small smile to grace his lips, nodding.

"You send your best fighters, of any race, to my land and in return, after the invades have been driven out, I will send my best warriors to yours."

Gandolf scratches his beard once again, thinking about the offer. Merlin waits patiently for Gandolfs answer. Neither are worried about how much time passes, for time doesn't effect those that travel through the Realm of the Mist.

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The Knights reach Hadrian's Wall, tired and worn. A woman surround by a hord of children walk up to Bors as he get off of his horse and throws her arms around his neck. Bors leans in to kiss her only to grunt and fall to his knees, holding his crotch.

"WOMAN!!" Bors shouts in pain.

"That will teach you to leave my bed making as much noise as you did this morning." she replies, her hands on her hips.

Bors looks up at her and smiles. He stands up and grabs a handful of her hair, pulling her into a kiss, this time making sure to guard his jewels. She throws her arms around his neck once more and leans into the kiss. They break apart and he whispers,

"Vanora, Gods know how I love you fiery spirit."

The other Knights walk away, leaving their horses in the care Jols. Tristan raises his arm and lets his hawk fly off into the sky, then joins the other Knights on their way to the pub for a nice meal and a drink.

The knights have just got their meals and drinks when a Roman scout,that was stationed at the Wall, came running into the pub and straight for Arthur. Lancelot watches from the table where they sit, as Arthur walks off with the Roman.

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Aragorn, the Man, Legolas, the Elf, and Gimli, the Dwarf, run across the plains and over the hills, only stopping when the full moon was high in the starry-sky. With Legolas to keep watch first, Aragorn and Gimli lay down with their cloaks as blanket and their arms as pillow. Sleep fell upon all of them swiftly, with Legolas fighting to stay awake. They could not lose more time then what was needed to regain their strength. But soon Legolas subcame to the entrapping, warm cocoon called sleep. As his eyes drift close and struggle to stay open, finally slidding shut, a cool mist glides over the ground being gently guided by the soft western wind. All three sleep peacefully as the mist creeps up the hill that they have made camp. None stir as covers them, swallowing them.

Gimli stirs in his sleep as he feels the heat of the sun, gently caressing his face. His eyes open and he sees the sun shining down upon him surround by the bright blue sky and soft, fluffy clouds lazily making their way across the heavens. Blinking, he shoots up and looks around. An endless ocean of golden grass, swaying in the soft breeze. Gimli can just barely see over it, as the grass comes up to his shoulders. Studying the surrounding area closer, he spots two gaps the size of his companions. Making his way over to the closest one, he reaches out, moves the grass a side and see Aragorn sleep peacefully, like a child.

"Aragorn!!" Gimli yells, shaking him roughly.

Aragorn groans and swats Gimli's hand away. Sitting up, Aragorn rubs his head.

"What?" He asks Gimli, "Is it my tu--"

Aragorn trails off as his eyes widen and he stands up quickly. Swaying a little, he looks around, turning, taking in his surrounds. He sees no famaliar hills of Rohan, he sees no moutains in the distance that glow with the fires of Mt. Doom. All he sees is golden grass that come to a stop just below his chest.

"Where are we?" He asks no one inpaticular.

Legolas stands up, having been awoken by the noise, looks around confused. Gimli spots his and makes his way over to the Elf. Poking Legolas in the chest he growls,

"You were supposed to keep watch and wake up for our shifts. What happened?"

"I don't know." Legolas says, swatting Gimli's finger away, "I was wide awake and then all of a sudden I was struggling to stay awake."

"Which way is Rohan?" Aragorn asks, intervining before the two break out in a fight.

The two looks at him and then at their surroundings.

"I don't think we're in Rohan anymore." Gimli says.

"I don't think we're in Middle-Earth anymore." Legolas says.

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Chapter 2. There ya go. Hope you enjoy it so far, slow start but hopefully it will be good. I don't even know so yeah. Thanks for reviewing: ladysakura, Kay, and JMMendiola


	3. AN

Yeah, all stories are on hold until I figure who's taking pics of me and driving by in the wee hours of the morn' and figure out how to stop them. so sorry everyone, I should have put this up a while ago, when it first started to get really bad, but I was hoping that if I ignored it it would go away. So anyways, all stories are on hold.


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